Seekers in Sicily: Being a Quest for Persephone by Jane and PeripateticaBisland, Elizabeth
General
Seekers in Sicily: Being a Quest for Persephone by Jane and Peripatetica
Bisland, Elizabeth
Sicily (Italy) -- Description and travel
Now they all lie here together under their pompous
canopies, and whatever may be the real dramas of
those fierce and turbulent lives, the great porphyry
sarcophagi combine to turn a face of cynical and haughty
silence to the importunate questioning of peeping
tourists.
In 1781 the tombs were opened by the Spanish King
Ferdinand I., who found Constance’s son Frederick
robed and crowned, with sword and orb beside his
pillow, and almost lifelike in preservation. Henry too
was almost unchanged by the six hundred years that
had passed in such change and turmoil beyond the
walls of his silent tomb, and he lay wrapped from head to
heel in yellow silk with the heavy blond tresses of his
wife laid upon his breast, still golden despite the lapse
of long centuries, but “nulle ne peut dire si c’est le
dernier sacrifice d’une femme dévouée, ou l’homage
ironique d’une reine contrainte à choisir entre deux
devoirs; placée entre son époux et son peuple, entre
sa famille et sa patrie.”
253Gaspero was a gift—a priceless parting gift from the
Northman, who had gone farther south to the Punic
shores from whence had come the first settlers of the
Palermian Coast. And to console Jane and Peripatetica
for the loss of his charming boyish gaiety he had
made over to them that treasure. For Gaspero not
only drove the smartest and most comfortable of all
the victorias on hire to the public, but he was an artist
in the matter of sight-seeing. A true gastronome,
mingling flavours with delicate wisdom; keeping delicious
surprises up his sleeve lest one’s spirit might
pall, and mingling tombs and sunshine, crypts and
“molto bella vistas,” history and the colourful daily
life of the people, with a masterhand. And all so fused
in the warm atmosphere of his own sympathetic and
indulgent spirit that “touristing” became a feast of the
soul unknown to those not guided by his discreet and
skilful judgment. He knew where one might purchase
honey which bees had brewed from orange
flowers into a sublimated perfume; and he introduced
them to certain patisseries at Cafleisch’s that gave afternoon
tea a new meaning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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